do you remember the
tidal waves my eyes created
when you said my name
like the way you said "hello"
to that girl in calculus class?
do you remember the shine
my soul lost when we were wrapped
up tightly in your utterly most
favorite blanket on my couch
as you were preoccupied with
texting that "friend" instead of
gazing into my ocean-colored eyes?
do you remember the way i would
glance your way while we sat at my
kitchen table drinking coffee while the
sun came up from behind the same
crisp autumn morning that described
my emotions to a tee?
do you remember when i walked
around my house in the middle of winter
in your sweatshirt and socks just so i could
have your scent linger on my body just a
little longer than i wanted it to because you
were completely absent from the picture?
i had always been told
that right before someone leaves you,
your entire life with them flashes right before
your eyes in milliseconds;
that right before they left you,
you would stare blankly at white walls which
served as the canvas of all of your memories
displayed like drunken artifacts before your
sunken and dried eyes.
that right before they leave you,
you start to hold onto their belongings,
hoping that somehow doing so will
result in some epiphany they have that
convinces them to stay with you infinitely.
my mother always told me that nothing
lasts forever,
and i guess it was no surprise when i woke
up on that crisp october sunday,
which was supposed to be our three year anniversary,
and you were not asleep next to
me.

{m.j.}